Touching the Bottom

Plunge into the water. Green and teal hues. Squishy floor at my feet. With all those clears and blues. I float around, but take a seat. I want to let the waterway be true. The current takes me away, deeper, with a pressure adding, too. I need to touch the bottom.

Waterweeds go on and on, But breath is running out. I hold myself and dive deeper. I won't let myself get out. the water gets inky, the floor is in view, now. I need to touch the bottom! But my hand doesn't know how. I need to touch the bottom.

I reach far out. Just a little deeper! I kick and tug. I am a sand-seeker. My lungs scream for oxygen. The water gets even inkier. My throat seems to tear at me for air. I swallow water as an accidental drinker. I need to touch the bottom.

I am going to drown. No! I feel the sand! I settle my feet at the bottom. It goes between my toes. How grand! I take a kick, and cannon up I paddle fast, and cup my hands. I break the surface, with a shattering splash, and my lungs expand. I might have touched the bottom.

I swim to the shore, And I collapse. I breath hard, soaking wet. I feel the waves on me overlap. I had done it! I heard an imaginary crowd's claps. I had touched the bottom!

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